Paul Russell: The Unreal Life of Sergey Nabokov

At times I wander among the shelves in the local library, among the many works of chik lit, dystopian fiction, far fetched realism, family stories and murder, looking for something to read. Time and time again I borrow books by renowned authors only to return them unread or only partly read. I am not much of a reader of fiction and for me to get to the end of a long novel it has to have something special to grip me. I stumbled upon Paul Russell's The Unreal Life of Sergey Nabokov because in this age of cheaply produced books, where publishers skimp on design, this was a stylishly produced well spaced and well laid out paperback. Credit to the publishers, Cleis. I started reading it, and was hooked. Paul Russell recreates magically the world of pre-revolutionary aristocratic Russia. The Nabokovs were eminent unimaginably wealthy nobility. He captures equally vividly Cambridge and particularly Paris of the inter-war years; the world of Diaghilev and the Ballet Russe, the opium snorting gay circle of Cocteau, the blue stocking jealousy riven  vain opinionated salon of Gertrude Stern and Alice Toklas, and intermittently the fear permeated Berlin of 1943. Sergey Nabokov, brother of Vladimir, was gay, a diffident stuttering, self-effacing, caring warm-hearted person. He comes through as a 'supporting character' in his own story, but as such he is a keen observed of the world around him. Or rather, Paul Russell observes with a keen eye for detail the world that he creates for Sergey Nabokov. There is little known about this younger brother of Vladimir, there are passing references to him here and there, and Russell weaves these crumbs of evidence into a narrative that bears the semblance of historical truth. It is a long book, and I am a slow reader, but as I approached the last pages I didn't want it to end.